In a World of Black and White
by Stripes McKee
Summary: There have been unexplained murders in Winding Circle Temple. When someone close to Briar is attacked, he decides he's going to do something. Along the way, he meets Grey, an assasin, and realizes that every thing is not just Black and White... R/R!! ^.^
1. The Watcher

A/N: Hey all! Welcome to the Wonderful World of my ficcmeister!!! ::crickets:: Quiet you... Anywho, my standard disclaimer: Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, Me no own, So you no sue.  
  
The only one I own is The Watcher. Now sit back, relax, and enjoy! Ane PLEASE review at the end! ^.^  
  
  
  
A black-clad figure slipped through the streets of Summersea, a shadow among shadows. The person paused at an alley mouth, and scanned the crowd.  
  
A young man, about age 15, with tan skin and dark curly hair rode down the street, accompanied by a middle-aged woman in a green habit.  
  
The figure smiled softly, but then as if realizing what they were doing, schooled their expression into a blank mask. Suddenly the figure jerked up, sensing danger. The danger came in the form of a man with a head cloth over his face, working his way towards the pair in the street. A flash of silver at his side alerted the watcher to the man's weapon.  
  
Swearing violently, the figure jumped from their previous hiding place, vaulting over a pile of baskets, and dodging through the stream of traffic. The man was now behind the two travelers, knife raised.  
  
  
  
Briar Moss, glanced at his teacher, dedicate Rosethorn, as they rode through the market-day traffic. "It's times like these that make me glad that I live in a Temple!" He muttered under his breath, as a clumsy mule driver shouted at them for 'getting in his way'.  
  
Suddenly, alarm bells went off in his head, and he turned around quickly. "Rosethorn!" he shouted, as a dirty looking man raised a long knife behind his teacher. "Watch out!"  
  
But Rosethorn's nerves were a fraction slower than they had been, since her trip into death had killed part of her brain. Briar knew she could not get out of the way in time, and the nearest plant was growing from a window basket way above his head. ::Grow!:: he screamed at it, willing the vine to stretch faster, even as he wheeled his horse, trying to get between the man and Rosethorn.  
  
Suddenly, there was a flash of black, leaping in front of Rosethorn, blocking the knife, and giving Briar time to drag Rosethorn out of the saddle. The figure in black had a knife of it's own, and was using it to great effect against the would-be assassin.  
  
The figure blocked another thrust of the killer, and knocked the other's knife away, the blade flying across the street, to land point first, in the wood box of a fruit stall.  
  
  
  
The watcher disarmed the attacker, and brandished the knife in his direction. Suddenly, the killer was bound by- of all things- a Suurka vine. The vine seemed to have mind of it's own, twining around the man until he looked fit to be a spider's supper.  
  
The figure blinked, then turned to the boy and his teacher, who were on foot now, making them less of a target.  
  
The watcher applauded them mentally. ::Smart... They know what to do.::  
  
  
  
Briar sighed in relief when the vine finally reached the attacker. ::Safe...:: He thanked the vine mentally, and looked for the mysterious figure, finding them in a defensive crouch, watching the man warily.  
  
Briar could get a better view here, seeing that their savior wore tight- fitting black clothes, black fingerless gloves, soft black boots, and a black cloak with the hood covering their face.  
  
Sensing Briar's stare, the figure turned, and he found himself caught in a fierce emerald gaze. The figure winked at him, and vanished silently into the crowd.  
  
Briar swore, and would have followed, except Rosethorn was tugging at his sleeve and pointing at the bound killer.  
  
Briar sighed. "Right."  
  
A/N: Well? Like it? Hate it? Tell me! I know this part it sort of obvious. ::sighs:: Oh well... 


	2. Grey...

A/N: Hey! I'm back with more!!!! ::crickets:: Quiet you.  
  
Roses are red,  
  
Violets are blue,  
  
Me no own,  
  
So you no sue.  
  
And here's a HUGE thank you to my reviewers:  
  
Keita: the :: things are actions, since my my comp won't let me use **.  
  
Larzdinn: Thank you for the great review!! I love mysteries too.. ^.^  
  
Bunch-o-nuts: I appreciate the reiview!! Thank you so much! ::huggles::  
  
Alrighty! Sorry the last chappy was so short. this one will be longer. I promise.  
  
"I'm going to the market! Tell Rosethorn I'll be back before weed-pulling!" Briar shouted to Sandry, who was spinning on a bench in Discipline's garden.  
  
His housemate nodded, and waved goodbye. "If you see any good red dye, bring some home would you?" Briar nodded and trotted off towards Market Day Square.  
  
When he reached the Market, he browsed for a little bit, keeping a covert eye out for Thatcher.  
  
When he finally spotted the boy, he waved and headed towards his friend. Thatcher, a tall boy several years older than Briar, smiled, eyes sparkling.  
  
"What'cha need, Briar-boy?" he asked jovially. Briar had made friends with Briar a few months ago, when Briar had caught Thatcher with his hand in Briar's belt pouch. Briar had given the boy a gold piece so he wouldn't have to steal anymore.  
  
Now, when Briar was in need information, extra hands, or someone to talk to, he always sought out Thatcher.  
  
Today, Briar made use of Thatcher's skills of observance. "I'm looking for someone." Briar said, after shaking his friend's hand.  
  
Thatcher nodded and leaned against a nearby wall. "Whadda they look like?" he asked, running his fingers through his floppy blond hair.  
  
Briar rubbed his neck. "I never saw their face. They wore all black, hooded cloak and everything. They're about my height, maybe a little shorter, and they can fight with knives."  
  
Thatcher began to grin. "There's only one person in Summersea like that!" He motioned to a little boy standing nearby. "Pins, me friend Briar here wants to know where Grey is. Can you do that?"  
  
The little boy nodded and grinned. "Sure thing." He skipped off, humming.  
  
Thatcher gestured towards a nearby fruit stall. "C'mon Bri. Let's us our paws on a bite to eat while we wait."  
  
Briar was enjoying a berry pie, with Thatcher, when Pins ran up and whispered in Thatcher's ear.  
  
Thatcher nodded. "By the fountain." Briar flipped the Pins a copper, before following Thatcher off.  
  
When they reached the fountain, Briar had to look for a second, before he spotted his target. The figure seemed to melt into the shadows, part darkness itself.  
  
Briar approached warily, hoping the figure wouldn't pull a knife on him, or something equally dangerous. He stepped up next to he figure, leaning casually over the edge of the fountain.  
  
They stood in silence for a moment, the black-clad person made no move to leave, or a sign of recognition, though Briar was sure the figure knew who he was.  
  
"So. Briar Moss. You have found me." The figure continued to watch the water, but Briar got the sense that whoever this person was, they were smiling under their hood.  
  
Briar nodded wordlessly, and noted that Thatcher had slipped away, probably going back to his former business. The figure was dressed the same as yesterday, hood still pulled low over his or her eyes.  
  
Briar cleared his throat. "I wanted to thank you. You sa-"  
  
The figure held up a gloved hand. "I didn't do it for praise. I did it because you needed help. Seeing you and your teacher safe is all the thanks I need."  
  
Briar opened his mouth, then shut it again. "How do you know my name?! And that Rosethorn is my teacher? And how where you right there when I needed your help?"  
  
The figure laughed and Briar noticed that they had a low melodious voice that was enchanting to listen to. "I've taken an interest in you, Briar Moss of Winding Circle, formerly known as Roach of the Lightnings, birth name Darian Kafar."  
  
Briar blinked in shock. ::My real name... No one knows my real name! Even I didn't know it...::  
  
The figure turned around, back resting on the railing of the fountain, and Briar got a glimpse of sculpted lips curled up in a smile. "I was there when you needed help, purely by coincidence. I caught a thought-trail and I was following it when I saw the assassin."  
  
Briar's eyebrows raised. "A thought-trail?" The figure coughed. "It doesn't matter."  
  
Briar stashed that piece of information in the back of his brain to puzzle over later. He remained silent for a moment, watching the crystal clear water flowing from the fountain.  
  
Suddenly, the figure swore and bolted upright. "Hate to run off like this..."  
  
Briar started out of his reverie. "Wait! I don't even know your name!"  
  
The figure, already darting through the crowd, stopped and twirled around, sweeping off its hood. Coppery hair flowed out, swishing around a freckled face, and sparkling emerald eyes. "It's Grey!" She, (for it was obviously a girl) bowed extravagantly, and disappeared into an alley.  
  
Briar walked slowly home, puzzling over his day. He passed through the gates of Winding Circle before he remembered Sandry's request.  
  
"Damn!" he swore, but he was too far from the market to pick up and dye now. ::I'll just have to hide for Sandry until she forgets about it, or I can go to the Market again...Whichever comes first.::  
  
When he reached Discipline, he snuck around the back of the cottage, and climbed up to the roof, by way of a trellis. After apologizing to the disturbed roses, he lay back, hoping Sandry hadn't heard him.  
  
No such luck. "Briar!" He jumped at the voice, to see Sandry climbing up onto the roof, looking immaculate as always. Seeing no way of escape, Briar sighed and leaned back. "I'm sorry Sandry. I had business that I had to take care of, and I forgot..." He trailed off at Sandry's puzzled look. "You weren't going to talk about that were you...." He muttered.  
  
Sandry laughed and shook her head. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Briar Moss. I just wanted to say thank you for the wonderful dye! It's gorgeous! I'm going to make you a new cloak from it!"  
  
Briar blinked at her. "What? What dye?!"  
  
Sandry shrugged. "The cake you left of my bed...." She trailed off as Briar leapt down the ladder and hurried into her room. Sure enough, a cake of scarlet dye sat on the middle of Sandry's bed.  
  
"See? I told you! What's this?" Sandry held up a little scrap of parchement. "This wasn't here before...." She handed it to Briar.  
  
Thought you might be needing this.  
  
~Grey  
  
Midday at the fountain 


End file.
